


Summa Iniuria

by Sunshinegrimes



Category: Joker (2019)
Genre: Angst, Child Death, Gen, Gotham City - Freeform, Heavy Angst, Hospitals, I'm Sorry, Pre-Canon, Sad Ending, Sick Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 13:43:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21016733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunshinegrimes/pseuds/Sunshinegrimes
Summary: Gotham was diseased, and for those who worked its streets, the effects were impossible to ignore.---Set before the events of Joker, Arthur Fleck visits a children's hospital, and stays longer than he intended, in order to bring laughter and joy to a little boy.





	Summa Iniuria

**Author's Note:**

> "Summa iniuria" - supreme malice (or wickedness)
> 
> This story is set a few before the events of Joker (2019) during the tuberculosis outbreak in the 1980s.  
Many people, especially children, died at this time as a result of poor sanitation, and cuts to healthcare in major cities. Those most adversely affected were families in poverty, therefore, I believe Gotham would also have been affected greatly given what we know about the living conditions at that time. Apologies for any sadness induced by this story, I couldn't get the idea out of my head.

Gotham was diseased, and for those who worked its streets, the effects were impossible to ignore.

The elite didn’t want to acknowledge it. They turned a blind eye to the sickness that polluted their citizens. What had started as a hairline fracture, a traversable gap between the rich and poor, had become into a ravine, tectonic, with both sides gravitating further apart every day. Lining every street corner were heaps of garbage bags, hulking black beasts that sagged, and rotted. They filled the air with noxious fumes, and spilled their bilious insides on the same roads the children played in. Rats as large as housecats scurried between tired looking apartment blocks, their exteriors adorned with peeled paint, and graffiti. Beneath the mire, in the humid bowels of the subway, people kept their belongings close, and regarded their neighbour with distrust. Poverty had stolen the softness from their faces, and envy had sharpened words said between friends.

The people were simmering, restless, and at night, those who couldn’t snatch a few hours of sleep, turned toxic with their contempt. Under moon and neon aglow, their anger turned to rage, at themselves, at their families, at those most vulnerable. Like vermin on a sinking ship, they scrabbled tooth and claw for food, for money, for a chance at a better life. All the while, people like Thomas Wayne slept in mansions far beyond the detritus, and didn’t lose a moment of sleep.

Arthur, who could feel his eyelids growing heavier by the minute, could have used a good night’s sleep. It wasn’t even late. The clock on the hospital wall read 7:43pm, but he hadn’t slept well the night before, too caught up in his own feelings of discontent. His shift had ended 3 hours ago, but today’s visit had left a sour taste in his mouth that had nothing to do with nicotine, or the Styrofoam cup of lukewarm coffee perched on the nearby windowsill.

He had visited the same hospital for many years now, but every time he went, it seemed as though the children were getting sicker. Illness in Gotham came and went like the tide: predictable, unpreventable, and unseen beneath the surface. He did well to avoid becoming contaminated himself, but he couldn’t resist letting the more active children hug around his knees, touch his face, or hold his hands. It made them smile, and brought meaning to Arthur’s life, when he danced and sung, and brought them a glimmer of colour to the whitewashed walls of the hospital.

Which is why he was currently perched in an uncomfortable plastic chair, getting a numb behind, doing his best to read through his fatigue.

“Then suddenly, Mr. Wonka stopped.” Arthur paused for dramatic emphasis, and kept his voice low, not wanting to wake any of the other children. At his shoulder, a young boy who was no older than 6, hung onto his arm. His thin blonde hair tickled Arthur’s cheek, and his small, skeletal fingers, brushed over the battered paperback that Arthur rested open between them. “In front of him, there was a shiny metal door. The party crowded round. On the door, in large letters, it read…” Arthur turned his head to look down at the boy, who gripped his arm tighter.

“The… choc..olate room."

“That’s right! The chocolate room.” Arthur gasped, and put his hand over his mouth. The boy giggled, and imitated his gesture, before turning back to the book. It was the end of the chapter, and far past what Arthur had originally intended to read. “More?”

“I think I’ll leave you in suspense until the next visit.” Arthur grinned, and the boy bounced a little on the squeaky mattress, making a sound of impatience. “I know, I know. But it’s almost 8:00pm, and the nurses will scold me if I keep you awake after your bed-time.” Arthur closed the book slowly, and patted the boy’s hand, where it was bunched in his shirt sleeve. “How does your chest feel?”

“Sore.” The boy sat back in the starched white bed, rubbing a hand over his equally pale face. “I want to play with the others, but Nurse Sonya says I hafta keep my germs to myself. It’s not my fault the water’s bad where we live.” The boy’s voice dwindled to a weak hiss, and Arthur reached behind him for a tissue, holding it to his tiny mouth just in time to catch the spatters of blood. He rubbed circles between the boy’s shoulder blades, and when he stopped coughing, Arthur folded the tissue quickly, hiding the contents, and tossed it into the nearby bin.

“You’ll be all better before you know it, don’t you worry.” Arthur sing-songed, coaxing the boy to lay on his side, and bringing the blankets to his shoulders. “Once you’re better, you can do all the dancing you want. You’ll see.”

“Thank you, Mr. Carnival.” The boy’s voice rattled again, another small cough shaking his tiny frame. “When can you come read again?”

“Well now, that is a good question.” Arthur stood, and gathered his things slowly as he talked. His face itched from wearing the paint for so long, and he wanted to clean up, but he believed that it was important for the children that he stayed in character. “You’ll have to ask Nurse Sonya, but don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll be so busy getting better, it won’t feel like very long at all.” He smiled, hoping to reassure his tiny charge, despite words ringing hollow in his own ears.

“Okay…” The little boy smiled back, his eyes half lidded, and after a few more seconds, he appeared to have dozed off entirely. With as much grace as he could muster, Arthur zipped up his bag, and crept to the windowsill to retrieve his coffee. He finished it in two mouthfuls, ignoring the burnt taste, and left the darkened ward with a final backwards glance.

Once outside, he washed his hands in the nearby bathroom, and descended the long elevator ride to the main reception. Behind the main desk, a woman reading a magazine gave him a cursory glance over the top of her page, tapping out her cigarette onto an already full ashtray. He signed himself out, and said goodnight to her, before leaving for the subway, and striding away into the cold, night air.

A month later, when Arthur visited the same ward, the boy was gone.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think <3
> 
> I've seen Joker 3 times now, and it's still absolutely brilliant. We need more fics of Arthur ;x; especially during his life before!  
If you would like to share your headcannons/thoughts on Arthur, or the film, you're welcome to do so in the comment section down below! :)
> 
> \- SunshineGrimes


End file.
